


Love is a Locked Door

by jackabelle73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the beginning of S2, during Belle’s first night free in Storybrooke. This fic had its roots in a discussion thread on Tumblr, about Belle's early experiences in our world after escaping the asylum, particularly learning to use modern plumbling. It took on a life of its own, as fics tend to do, but it started with that idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Locked Door

She was riding in a car, a sort of strange horseless carriage that she’d read about but never seen before today. He’d asked if she was afraid of it, but she shook her head, knowing that he’d never put her in one if it were dangerous. It occurred to her that perhaps she should be reacting more to this new mode of transportation, and to the sights of the town as they passed by…but she was numb to it all, unable to process anything else.

When the car stopped and he announced that they’d arrived at his home, she looked up at it looming in the darkness and her only impression was that it was taller than most of the buildings she’d seen so far.

He had to help her out of the restraining harness, then offered a hand as she swung her legs out and stood up, nearly swaying.

“I imagine you’re tired,” he offered, urging her to step away from the car so he could close the door. “You’ve had quite a day.” She nodded but couldn’t find any words for him. “Come, then. Let’s get you settled.”

He led her up some steps and inside the house, turning on a light as he closed the door behind them. She looked around, taking in her new surroundings and trying to think of something to say, instead of standing there like a mute idiot.

“You’re a collector in every realm, I see,” was what finally came out. The room they’d entered was full of miscellaneous items, much like his pawn shop or the Dark Castle.

“Well, yes.” She could hear the smile in his voice, even without looking at him. “Would you like to go straight to sleep, Belle? You look exhausted. Or I could fix you something to eat if you’re hungry. Or you could take a shower first, or a bath if you prefer. Or–”

“A bath?” she interrupted, turning to him. “You have a bath here?”

“Yes, of course.” He gave her an inquisitive look. “Did you think this land didn’t have them?”

“In…in the asylum…” She stumbled over her words, finding that she didn’t even want to think of that place now that she was free of it. “There were only showers there. They had to tell me what they were called. And the water was never very warm, and there was this tall woman who watched me the whole time, like they thought I’d run away with no clothes…”

She stopped with a shudder, remembering the way her skin would crawl under the woman’s hawk-like gaze. Belle would rush through her shower, washing herself as quickly as possible with the coarse soap provided to her. The stuff she’d been told was for her hair never lathered up very well, and there was nothing to help with tangles, so her long tresses were constantly in knots. Sometimes she would pass the long hours in her cell by untangling the knots, one by one, with her fingers.

She realized that Rumplestiltskin was looking at her with barely-contained fury, and she knew it wasn’t directed at her.

“Rumple…” She took his hand in both of hers. “Don’t go after Regina again, please. It’s over now.”

He pushed down the rage with obvious effort, and asked, “Would you like me to show you to the bath?”

She smiled. “Please.”

She followed him up a flight of stairs, slowly because of his limp, with Belle still floating along in a cloud of tiredness but with a tingle of anticipation running through her haze. Gods, it’d been so long since she’d had a chance to soak in a hot bath. 

 “I’m afraid the only bathtub in the house is connected to my bedroom,” he said apologetically, though she didn’t see why that was a problem. 

He led her through a doorway, through the small room beyond it and to another connecting room where he turned on a lamp and the presence of the bed told her that this was where he slept.

She could feel herself blushing as she looked at the bed, covered in a gold and red blanket with a carved headboard. He seemed not to notice, moving to another door with his cane tapping on the floor.

“Here you go,” he announced, turning on another light in that room.

She stepped into the small room behind him and nearly wept with joy at sight of the tub when he pulled back the curtain. It was different than she was used to in the Enchanted Forest, but definitely recognizable as a bath tub.

Some sort of bench stood in the tub, and Belle was perplexed. “What’s that for?” she asked.

“It’s, well…a shower seat. For me. It’s not easy for me to stand in the shower, with my bad foot. Better to sit down, minimizing the chance that I’ll slip and fall. Can’t afford to injure the other foot.” She nodded. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but it made perfect sense once he explained it. The bench disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and he turned away to open a cabinet and pull out a fluffy maroon towel and washcloth.

He asked if she knew how to work the controls. The knobs for hot and cold water were familiar enough, but he spent a moment demonstrating how to close the drain so the tub could fill up, and then open it again to let water out. With a wave of his hand, an array of bottles appeared next to the sink. 

“Soap, shampoo and conditioner for your hair, lotion, and oil for the water if you like,” he explained.

She picked one up and opened the lid to smell it, and smiled. 

“How’d you know that roses are my favorite scent?” She peered at him through her lashes, head still lowered to breathe in more of the smell. He was awkward suddenly, looking down at his hands braced on his cane. 

“The day…that we met. You smelled like roses.”

She lowered the bottle, setting it aside, and took a single step closer to rest her hand on his. 

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything about you, Belle. When I got my memories back…you were one of my first thoughts.”

She understood the feeling well. She’d had her own moment, this afternoon. She’d felt that wave of magic pass by her, through her, and all her memories came flooding back at once. She’d nearly screamed with delight, there in the woods, when she remembered her name. Oh, sweet knowledge, to know her own name! But before she could shriek it out and possibly frighten the very trees, she realized that she knew something else… _his_  name. And suddenly, that had seemed more important. 

He was watching her, and she felt sure that he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. 

“It’s not your fault you couldn’t remember me, Belle,” he assured her.

“I remember now. Rumplestiltskin.” She said it, just because she could.

“Yes, well….” He broke their eye contact. “I’ll leave you to it. There’s a night dress and gown on the back of the door for you. And the door locks from the inside.” He brushed past her to show her the knob that would turn the dead bolt. “No one will disturb you here, I swear it. But use the lock if it helps you feel safe.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, grateful almost to tears that he understood.

He nodded, and turned to go, but turned back after two steps. “Do you…need help? With your dress?”

Oh. She’d forgotten. This dress he’d given her to wear, which seemed scandalously short even though he’d assured her the style was normal here, fastened up the back with something called a zipper. She’d read about those too, but never used one before. He’d had to help her with it when she got dressed at the shop. 

He was waiting for an answer, so she simply nodded and turned, holding her hair up so he could get to it. There was that sound again, like some sort of insect grinding its mechanical teeth, and she felt the dress loosen as the back gaped open. At the shop she’d managed to get the zipper most of the way up herself, feeling around behind her for the little tab that he’d told her to use, and contorting her arms to zip it closed as high as she could. He’d only closed the last few inches at the top. But now, he opened the zipper all the way to the bottom, past her waist, till she knew her back and parts of her undergarments were on view. She stood still, not sure what she was waiting for. She felt the barest of touches on the small of her back, then heard him moving away. 

“Take all the time you want.” His voice was lower than she’d ever heard it, husky in a way that made her stomach tighten. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

She heard the door click closed behind her, and turned to lock it, testing the knob just for good measure. It door rattled a bit in its frame when she pulled hard, but was otherwise immovable. She sighed in relief, letting her forehead rest against the wood for a moment. If asked, she would have said that she’d had enough of being behind locked doors to last her a lifetime. But the bathroom was the exception. After years of being allowed no privacy in her personal hygiene,  _this_  locked door was a gift.

There were clothes hanging on the back of the door, just as he’d promised. Belle ran the fabric between her fingers just long enough to confirm that yes, it was silk. She hadn’t felt anything that soft against her skin since before the curse. Pushing herself away from the wood, she went to the tub and turned the knobs for the water, adjusting till it was as hot as she thought she could withstand, before closing the drain to let the tub fill up.

Standing up, she let the loosened dress fall down her arms, stepped out of it and folded it carefully. She’d probably have to wear it again tomorrow, since she had no other clothes aside from the patient gown she’d been wearing when she escaped the asylum today. She’d walk around town naked before she’d put that back on. It was still in the bathroom at the shop…perhaps Rumplestiltskin would help her destroy it tomorrow. Not with magic, though. Fire would be fitting…and Belle wanted to light the flame herself. She removed her undergarments, shivering a little though the steam from the tub was starting to warm the room. Fully nude, she turned to the mirror to study herself.

Despite how long it had been since she’d had a chance to see herself in a mirror, her body didn’t look any different than she remembered. Rumplestiltskin had explained that the curse stopped everyone’s aging process. She took a moment to run her hands down her sides, then back up to cup her breasts, then turned to look over her shoulder, lifting her hair and getting the best view she could of her back and the curves of her hips and bottom.

She supposed her shape was pleasing enough…certainly men had seemed to find her attractive once she came to womanhood. But right now, the only question was whether _Rumplestiltskin_ would find her attractive. The question had never come up during their previous acquaintance…she’d been ‘the help’ as he’d once called her, dismissively.

She let her hair fall and picked up the bottle of rose-scented oil, adding a few drops to the bathtub, and transferred the other bottles to the shelf next to the tub, where she could reach them easily. She turned off the spouts, sat on the edge of the tub and slowly lowered her feet in, nearly shivering as the heat permeated her very bones. She stayed there a moment, letting herself adjust to the temperature.

Rumplestiltskin may not have ever told her that she was beautiful or that he was attracted to her, but they’d shared True Love’s Kiss. That counted more than a few superficial compliments, she reminded herself. People had told her she was beautiful her entire life, but there was only one person in all the realms with whom she’d shared True Love’s Kiss.

She wondered why their kiss this afternoon hadn’t had the same effect as the first. Did that mean they were no longer True Love?

No. She refused to believe that. The look of awe on his face when she walked into his shop this afternoon wasn’t something that could be faked. And she’d felt his sincerity when they kissed by the well…he still loved her, and she still loved him. He’d undoubtedly protected himself from the curse-breaking power of their kiss, that’s all.

Taking a breath, she lowered herself slowly into the water, groaning aloud at the long-missed luxury of being submerged in blessedly hot water. The oil she’d added made it feel slick against her skin and released the scent of roses in the air to mingle with the steam. She breathed it in, feeling the fog in her mind clear, and leaned back against the tub, closing her eyes. She could almost believe this tub was a portal, and she’d been transported to a dream realm.

The difference between this morning and now was surreal enough to be a dream. She had woken up in her cell at the asylum, just as she had every day for as long as she could remember. She knew now that it had been twenty-eight years, as hard as that was to believe. Tonight, she was in the home of her True Love. And she was soaking naked in a hot bath, while he waited for her downstairs.

Her eyes opened as the reality of her situation fully sank in. She was free, finally, from Regina’s captivity, and in Rumplestiltskin’s home. She and her True Love were alone in this house, and this afternoon, for the first time ever, he’d finally said he loved her too. She was in a new land where everything was strange and unfamiliar; even Rumplestiltskin himself looked different here. There were so many questions to ask, so much to learn about the new life now open to her. Who would she be, in this new land?

Panic tried to rise up in her chest, but she squashed it down firmly. She knew who she was, she told herself as she swished her hand idly through the water. She was Belle, who loved books. Who’d lost her mother years before the curse. Who had been separated from her father and her home when she agreed to go with Rumplestiltskin to save her people from the ogres. She was Rumplestiltskin’s True Love, and he was hers. She’d waited decades to be with him again—though she didn’t know till this afternoon how long it had been—and she was not about to squander this second opportunity they’d been given. Tonight, she wanted to be with Rumplestiltskin…in every sense.

She sat up, almost trembling at the mere thought of what she’d just decided, and picked up the washcloth to give her hands something to do. The bottle he’d pointed out to her for washing her body was filled with a pinkish liquid that glided over her skin, leaving another layer of rose scent to add to the bath oils.

Her skin, neglected for so long in the asylum, already felt softer. She ran the cloth down her arms and legs, across her torso, washing every body part she could reach, trying to imagine what it would be like if he touched those same places.

She’d never been with a man that way. And considering how abruptly she’d left his castle after realizing her feelings for him, she hadn’t had much time to wonder if they might take things further than a simple kiss.  But she wasn’t entirely naïve; she knew what happened between a man and a woman.

She’d once witnessed a clandestine meeting of lovers in a secluded corner of the palace gardens, peeking through an opening in the hedge that separated her reading spot from what they clearly thought was a private location for their rendezvous. She recognized the man as one of the groundskeepers, and the woman from the kitchens, though she didn’t know them well. They’d never even taken their clothes off, merely opened the man’s trousers and lifted the woman’s skirts around her waist to allow access. So Belle hadn’t seen everything…but enough.

Belle leaned back, letting her long hair submerge completely in the water to wet it all the way to her scalp, remembering how she couldn’t look either of those servants in the eye after that day…not that it had been a problem for much longer. A couple months later, they both left castle employment suddenly, and the servants whispered of an illicit pregnancy. Belle heard her father saying to her mother that he could not have that woman around their daughter, setting such an example.

She could still hear the judgement in his voice as he condemned the woman for choosing a lover before marriage. Lord Maurice made no mention of the part the man had played, but he disappeared from the castle the same time as the woman. Her father never knew just how much the couple had already ‘corrupted’ his daughter, how she’d replayed their lovemaking in her mind, alone in bed at night. Belle wondered if her father was in this land as well. Could she find him? And if she did find him, what would he think of her giving herself to the Dark One?

It didn’t matter, she told herself firmly as she lathered up her hair. Her life was her own, and her control over it had been taken away from her for a long time, but no more. Tonight, she would decide her own fate.

Having decided, she hurried through washing her hair and then—after reading the instructions on the other bottle that he’d said was for her hair—put something called conditioner on it as well. That slippery substance didn’t create as many bubbles as the shampoo, but her hair felt so soft after she rinsed it out.

Feeling rejuvenated from her bath, and impatient now that she’d made up her mind, she let the water out and stepped from the tub, drying herself with a towel that felt soft as a flower’s petals against her skin. Her hair tangled as she dried it, and she looked around for a comb or brush but didn’t see either. She took the night dress from the hook on the door and put it on quickly, realizing that there were no undergarments. Well, no matter…if it felt brazen to go downstairs with the air touching parts of herself that she usually kept covered, then she’d just be brazen. She put on the robe next, because she was chilly now that she was no longer in the water.

There were slippers on the floor that she hadn’t noticed before…had they appeared while she was bathing? No matter…she slipped her feet into them and, combing her hair as best she could with her fingers, unlocked the door that led into the bedroom.

She almost expected to find Rumplestiltskin lounging on the bed waiting for her, as if he’d heard her thoughts in the bath and knew her intentions. She laughed at herself at her assumption…of course he didn’t know. Of the many abilities she knew him to have, mind-reading was not one of them. Besides, he’d said that he would wait for her downstairs, and she’d been grateful for his consideration, for allowing her privacy after so long without it.

She took a moment to turn down the bed before going downstairs, finding him in that cluttered room they’d first entered. Magic puffed around him in a purple cloud and as it cleared, she saw that he held a dress of deep blue, just as short as the one he’d given her earlier, with a lace pattern showing across the shoulder straps.

“That’s beautiful,” she said from behind him, causing him to turn. He smiled at the sight of her and draped the dress across both forearms, bowing as he presented it to her.

“For you, milady,” he said, with an odd formality to his voice.

She took it, giggling softly at his theatrics, and held the dress up to herself. As she suspected, it looked like it would fit her perfectly. How much time had he spent contemplating her physical proportions, to conjure a perfectly-fitting dress out of thin air?

“Thank you,” she replied, leaving that particular question unasked. “I was wondering if I’d have to wear that same dress tomorrow.”

“We’ll take you shopping soon,” he promised. “But till then, you need only ask and I’ll conjure anything you want.”

“Well, since you asked…” She draped the dress over the back of the sofa with great care. “I don’t suppose you could conjure me a comb or brush? If I don’t deal with these tangles before they dry, they’ll be impossible to get out tomorrow.” She gathered her wet hair over her shoulder, inspecting the knots.

“Of course,” he replied softly. Another puff of magic and a matched brush and comb set were in his palm. She reached for them, but he held them out of her reach. “May I?”

She nodded, breathless. He motioned for her to sit on the couch, and she turned sideways so he could sit behind her and begin working the tangles out with the comb. She closed her eyes, letting herself be lulled by the quiet, disturbed only by a nearby clock ticking off the seconds. It had been so long since someone had tended her hair for her, or paid attention to her at all beyond basic survival needs.

Rumplestiltskin was good at untangling hair. It was a vague thought that barely managed to permeate the dreamy state she’d slipped into, from feeling safe and cared for. She knew that her hair had been a snarled mass when she sat down, but he was barely pulling at all as he patiently worked out one knot at time. She wondered idly what else his hands might be good at, before her conscious brain caught up to her near-subconscious and she sat up straight at the turn her thoughts had just taken.

“Belle? Are you all right?” He stopped combing and instead she felt his hands on her upper arms, stroking up and down through the robe.

“Y—yes. Of course.” She sounded jittery even to her own ears, and made herself focus on the panic that was trying to take over. She pushed it down, willing her heartbeat to slow. She’d already decided this, she reminded herself. And if felt like her courage had abandoned her for now, well…she just needed to do the brave thing, and bravery would follow. Or come back, from wherever it had run off to.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She managed to sound a little more certain this time. “Are you–” Her tongue tripped over the question, forcing her to pause and muster fortitude again. “Are all the tangles out? I think I’m…I’m ready for bed,” she finished, with an embarrassing squeak.  

His hands stopped their up-and-down motion, before squeezing and letting go.

“Nearly done.” A few more barely-there tugs at her hair, and then he gathered all of it into his hands, spreading it over her back. “Would you like me to dry it, so you don’t have to sleep with wet hair?”

“You can do that?” She heard an affirmative ‘hmm’ in response. “Yes, please.”

She felt magic, starting at her scalp then moving down her back, and when it dissipated she pulled a handful over her shoulder, finding it dry, soft, tangle-free, and smelling of roses. Her hair felt pampered. _She_ felt pampered.

“Thank you.” She turned around so she could see him again. His own hair fell over his face as he looked down, fiddling with the comb he still held.

He didn’t look at her as he said, “I can show you to your room, if you’re ready.”

“My room?” she asked, confused.

“Yes. I prepared one of the guest rooms for you while you were in the bath. You’ve had a trying day; I’m sure you’re ready to sleep.”

He still wasn’t looking at her. He couldn’t possibly see the blush that she could feel working up her face, or the way her hands fisted in the material of her robe. He’d prepared a separate room for her. He clearly had no expectations for tonight. She could change her mind, without him ever knowing that she’d made it up in the first place. Was that what she wanted?

“No,” she said aloud, answering herself and him. “I’m not ready to sleep.” He looked up at her, finally. His eyebrows raised with a question. “And I don’t want to stay in a guest room. I want to sleep with you.” She laid a hand over his, where he was still turning that comb over and over in his hands restlessly, prompting him to be still. “I want…to _be_ with you. In every sense.”

“Belle…” He was staring at her, the same way he had when she walked in his shop earlier. Like he couldn’t quite believe that a creature like her even existed. She leaned in to kiss him…but he shook his head suddenly, looking away. “Do you even know what you’re asking?”

“Of course I do!” She sat back, dismayed. “I’m not so ignorant as all that!”

He looked at her askance. “And where would a properly-raised young lady of the Enchanted Forest come across such knowledge?”

“Well…” She sat back against the cushion and tucked her feet beneath her, buying time before she confessed. “I _might_ have witnessed two castle servants in the act one day,” she admitted, sheepish. “I was reading in a far corner of the garden where I thought no one would disturb me.”

“Why, you little voyeur. You watched them.” He seemed…admiring? So she was more shameless as she elaborated.

“Well, it wasn’t like I planned it…but they were there, and I wanted to know, and back then, no one would ever answer my questions. They said that I’d find out when I got married, as if there was no possible reason I might want to be informed before that!” Decades later, and she still felt keenly the frustration of being denied _knowledge_. “So I took advantage of an opportunity to learn more than my books could tell me.”

“I can’t imagine that type of books were easy to get in your parents’ home.”

“No, the books there weren’t helpful at all. There were love stories in our library of course, but all the–” She waved her hands, looking for words. “The _physical_ scenes were so vague. They were always written in metaphors,” she complained, indignant that her beloved books hadn’t given her the information she sought. “They were less than useful when it came to specifics.”

He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “So where, may I ask?”

“Well…” She let her pause, quite deliberately, for effect. “The library at your castle, for one. There were quite a few novels in there that were far more explicit than anything I’d ever read before. I did wonder about their inclusion in the library that you created specifically for me.”

She waited for an explanation, but “hmm,” was his only response. He did, however, look pleased with himself, which reaffirmed her suspicion that he’d included those books on purpose.

“I also read a lot in the asylum.”

“I’m surprised you were allowed books.”

“I don’t think I was _supposed_ to have books in there. I wasn’t supposed to have anything, really, beyond basic survival needs. But that nurse who always watched over me…she came to my cell one day when I was pounding on the door and screaming to be let out, and she had a book in her hand. I saw it and just had to have it. I promised that if she gave me that book, I’d be quiet for the rest of the day.”

She could still remember holding that borrowed book in her hands. Even though she didn’t remember anything about herself during the long years of her captivity, not even her own name, as soon as she saw the book in the nurse’s hand she had to have it. Some small spark of her identity had survived, enough to know that she loved books. She’d spent the rest of the day reading, enraptured once again by the power of the written word, but jumping to hide her contraband whenever she heard footsteps approach her door. If Regina had caught her with it…but her captor looked in on her so seldom, and never did discover Belle’s secret.

“So…you made a deal,” Rumple said, looking impressed.

“I suppose I did. And after that first book, she found out I was a much more complacent prisoner if she kept me supplied with reading material.”

“I shudder to think what any minion of Regina’s would consider to be suitable reading material. Wait,” he appeared to think of something. “Is that why you weren’t afraid of the car? You’d read about them?”

“Yes. I think at first, she was trying to be very careful about what she gave me to read. All the stories had castles, and horses, and didn’t seem so different from the Enchanted Forest, aside from different names and having no magic. But after a while, she got sloppy. She gave me books that were set in a land that seemed so strange, with things like cars, planes, and lights that one could turn on with a switch on a wall. I know now that it was this place. This land.”

“Yes.”

“Rumple, can I ask you a question?”

“Ask anything you want.”

She leaned forward. “Have you ever been on…a plane?”

He laughed. “No, actually. I haven’t been able to leave Storybrooke, remember?”

“Right. I knew that,” she admitted, with some embarrassment. “It’s just…I read about them, and to get in a machine that could take us to such far-off places in just a few hours! It sounds amazing! Like magic, but anyone can use it, not just those with magic.”

“You’ve always wanted to see the world,” he murmured.

“Yes. Do you think we could go someday? Outside Storybrooke, and get on a plane, and go to the places I’ve read about?”

“Of course. Someday.”

“Maybe…someday soon?” Something passed across his face, a closing off, and she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. “It’s just…we’ve lost so much time already, Rumple. Now that I’m free, and with you…I want to see the world. And I want to start a new life, with you.”

“I’m sorry for all that wasted time, Belle. If I’d known you were alive, and where you were, and if I’d had my memories sooner…”

She reached forward, taking his hands in hers. “Don’t. We can play the what-if game all day, but it won’t change the past. But right now, we’re here. We’re together.” She leaned forward slowly, saw his eyes flick down to her mouth for an instant before she closed her own and kissed him. It wasn’t like that tearful kiss by the well today. This felt like their very first kiss in the Dark Castle, tremulous and full of questions waiting to be answered.

She drew back, looking for his reaction. His lips parted as he stared at her for a moment, seeming to hold his breath. Then he shook his head, turning away to pick up his cane and stand. He walked a few steps away before turning back to regard her seriously.  

“Belle, you’ve had a very long day. I don’t think now is the best time to be making big decisions. Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow, all right? We have all the time in the world to decide how we want to progress with…with us,” he gestured awkwardly between them. “With our relationship.”

“Time,” she repeated. “You think I need time.” She stood to face him, clenching her fists at her sides. “What do you think I’ve had for the past twenty-eight years, Rumple? Nothing …but … time! Time to sit alone in a bare room and count the blocks on the walls. Time to wonder if I’d ever get out of there, if I’d ever breathe fresh air again, or take a bath in private, or–” She had to stop, to stop the tears that wanted to fall, to steady her voice. “Or if I’d ever be able to connect with another person again. If I’d ever be touched by another human being with love and affection.” He stared at her, shocked by her outburst. “When we kissed today, by the well? That was the most alive I’ve felt in decades, Rumple.”

“For me as well,” he whispered, looking pained.

“Then why…why are you trying to push me away?”

“I was trying to be a gentleman,” he answered, and she laughed. Was that what his reluctance was about? She stepped closer, eliminating the distance he’d tried to put between them.

“You never bothered with that before,” she reminded him.

“But don’t you see, Belle? That’s precisely what I’m talking about. I was never very nice to you, was I? When you were in the Dark Castle. You came there as my servant, and on your first night I threw you into the dungeon. Then you offered me True Love, and I…I threw you out. I’m sorry, Belle. I’m so sorry for how I behaved back then.” His beautiful face twisted in anguish.

She stepped closer still, and took his hands in hers. “Apology accepted. That was a long time ago, and I already said that I don’t want to dwell on the past.” She lifted her chin to maintain eye contact. “I’d rather think about our future, starting with tonight.”

“This is a chance for us to start over, Belle.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “I want to do right by you this time. I never should have offered you the deal to come work for me. I was no better than that bastard you were engaged to back then, trapping you into a relationship you didn’t want.”

“There’s one crucial difference, Rumple. Both deals were made to protect my people, but my engagement to Gaston was decided by him, and my father. They only… _informed_ me after the fact, and I’ve never felt so trapped, not even in the asylum. But my deal with you…that was _my_ choice. I decided my own fate that day, for maybe the first time ever. And now…I’m deciding my own fate again.”

“If you’re sure of your decision?” His hand moved to her hair.

She sighed. How many times would she have to say it? It had been hard enough to convince herself, upstairs in the tub. She never thought she’d have to convince him!

“Rumple…this might be the first decision I’ve ever made in my life that’s solely for me, because it’s what I want. Not because it’s what my parents asked of me, or because I’m trying to protect my people. This is something I want. I want _you_.”

He looked at her with…was that disbelief? Did he really still doubt her, after everything she’d said here tonight? Maybe words weren’t enough. Steeling herself, never looking away from his deep brown eyes, she loosened the robe’s belt and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. An almost imperceptible shiver ran over her, but she wasn’t sure if it was the cool air on her skin or what she was about to do. She reached up, rising on her toes to reach as she cupped his face in her hands, kissing him again. Just a soft, light kiss, lasting barely a second, because she really didn’t know how to do more than that, without him leading the way. Her heels settled back to the floor again as she waited for his reaction.

“I want you too,” he answered softly, taking one of her hands in his own to kiss her palm, then her wrist.

“Know what else I want?” she asked, as his cane fell to the floor and he gave matching kisses to her other palm and wrist. She was starting to feel light-headed with lack of oxygen. She needed to remind herself to breathe. She curled her toes inside the slippers she wore, trying to ground herself to the earth.

“Hmm?”

“To learn. All the things that no one would tell me, years ago. All the things I can’t learn from books. The things that people learn together in private, behind locked doors.”

He lifted his head, looking at her with amusement. She felt a rush of magic, and heard a door slam shut upstairs.

“Closed and locked, sweetheart. Anything else?”

“Well…I did intend for us to be inside the room before locking the door. How will we get in?” she asked with a playful smile.

“Hang on to me, and I’ll show you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his arms go around her waist, pulling her close. His belt buckle pressed against her stomach through the thin silk she wore, something she barely registered before magical smoke rose around them and she closed her eyes against it. She opened them again when that disorientation she always felt when traveling by magic faded, and found herself standing in Rumplestiltskin’s bedroom. He was looking down, at the fluffed pillows and blanket pulled back to expose the wide expanse of soft bed, inviting them to lie down.

“You turned down the bed before going downstairs?” he asked.

She cupped the back of his head in her hands, threading her fingers into his hair and wondering why she’d never known before how soft it was. What else would she learn tonight?

“I told you, Rumple. I’m sure.” She kissed him again, preventing more questions. For the rest of the night, she only wanted answers.


End file.
